


If You're Leaving, I Gotta Know Why

by Lyghtbulb



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Asexual Relationship, Confessions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, aziraphale finally gets a braincell, conversation about the bookshop fire and love, crowley finally gets a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 04:00:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20057665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyghtbulb/pseuds/Lyghtbulb
Summary: "I thought I lost you," Crowley murmurs.It's a quiet afternoon in the bookshop, with barely a week of time after the Apocanot to soften the dreamlike quality of the store's magical restoration. Crowley's face is buried in pillows on Aziraphale's couch, his long limbs sprawling across the cushions. Aziraphale closes his book from where he is sitting at the front desk to turn and look at his friend."Sorry, my dear, I don't think I quite caught that." Aziraphale had, of course, heard what Crowley had said; it just didn't make any sense.(teen for swearing)





	If You're Leaving, I Gotta Know Why

"I thought I lost you," Crowley murmurs.  
  
It's a quiet afternoon in the bookshop, with barely a week of time after the Apocanot to soften the dreamlike quality of the store's magical restoration. Crowley's face is buried in pillows on Aziraphale's couch, his long limbs sprawling across the cushions. Aziraphale closes his book from where he is sitting at the front desk to turn and look at his friend.  
  
"Sorry, my dear, I don't think I quite caught that." Aziraphale had, of course, heard what Crowley had said; it just didn't make any sense. Aziraphale unconciously looks Crowley up and down. He's been doing that a lot lately, just to reassure himself that Crowley is still here--that they both are still here.  
  
Crowley takes a shakey breath, ruffling some of the pillows. "I came in here to look for you. When--when the bookshop was burning. I couldn't find you anywhere."  
  
"You..." Aziraphale's mouth has gone dry rather suddenly. "You were here? Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
Those were not the words he meant to say. He meant to say 'are you alright?' He meant, 'I'm sorry you had to see that'. He meant to walk over to the couch and give Crowley the most secure hug he could muster until the tension melted off his shoulders. But Aziraphale is rooted to his chair.  
  
Crowley shudders, managing to tighten himself into a ball on the thin couch. "I tried to. I was a bit drunk, though. Wouldn't have brought it up now, but I found your candles in a drawer earlier. Dunno if you knew, but they're how the fire started in the first place."  
  
Aziraphale's mind flashes to the hazy vision of a bar and the sensation of not being able to feel the chair he was sitting on. "Wait--I'm the best friend?"  
  
Two yellow eyes peer up at him from a mass of cushions. They would have been intimidating if Crowley hadn't been completely covered in tartan fabric. "Yes, you dumbass. What other friends do I have?"  
  
"The last time you called me you said you had an old friend over," Aziraphale defended. "and I was under a bit of stress, with the discorporation and all."  
  
"Well, you're my best friend. Happy now?"  
  
_Not really,_ Aziraphale thinks, but he settles back into his chair.  
  
Aziraphale lets the quiet settle for a moment before speaking again. "You thought you lost me?"  
  
The bundle on the couch lets out a choked laugh. "Yeah. I thought Heaven--or Hell, I guess--had come after you. I thought... I thought it was hellfire, angel."  
  
This statement is what finally prompts Aziraphale to stand up. He kneels down by Crowley's side, picking up some pillows so he can see his friend's face. The hurt reflected back at him from those beautiful golden eyes just makes him ache more. Crowley attempts to grab back some of the pillows, but one look from Aziraphale stops him.  
  
"I'm right here," Aziraphale whispers, The close proximity causes him to lower his voice without realizing. He lightly places his hand on top of Crowley's. "See?"  
  
Crowley's fingers curl around his own as he sighs. "I know, I know, it's just. We didn't leave on the best of terms, and then." He swallows. "I thought I wouldn't ever see you again."  
  
A memory flashes, unbidden, across Aziraphale's mind. _Come up with something, or I'll never talk to you again!_  
  
He didn't realize how hard that would hit.  
  
"Scoot over." Aziraphale says, shoving gently at the tartan. Crowley makes a noise of confusion, but moves anyway.  
  
Aziraphale sits next to him, and after a moment of hesitation, wraps Crowley up in an embrace. The snake stiffens for a moment before melting and tangling himself around Aziraphale.

"I'm so sorry, my dear," Aziraphale whispers. "I didn't know what you had gone through."  
  
"S'alright, angel." Crowley's arms tighten. "You're here now. That's what matters."  
  
_But that's not enough._ Aziraphale takes a deep breath, lining up words in his head. "I did want to go with you. I wanted to go hide in the stars. But I couldn't just leave the humans to die by themselves, Crowley. And I thought... I _know_ you feel the same way. I know you wouldn't just leave them. You're too kind for that."  
  
Crowley bristles for a moment at the word 'kind', but settles in order to hear what else Aziraphale has to say.  
  
"You were scared. And instead of listening to you, I lashed out." Aziraphale whispers. "I acted very unfairly to you, my dear. I do like you, quite a bit." _More than you could ever know._ "I don't want you to ever have to feel alone again."  
  
Crowley's voice rumbles through Aziraphale's chest like the purr of a cat. "Thanks, angel. I like you a lot, too."  
  
Aziraphale loosens one of his arms to cough into it, covering the red tint of his face. He can't quite bring himself to move away, though. _You know he doesn't mean it the same way,_ says a suspiciously Gabriel-like voice in his head. _He's a demon. They don't love anything._  
  
_That's just not true,_ Aziraphale thinks. Crowley loves plenty of things. His Bentley, for a start. And the park, and the little movie theatre on the side of town where he can rent an entire room for himself, and the bookshop, though he doesn't know if Crowley would ever admit it.  
  
The low hum of love surrounding Crowley at any given time is something that Aziraphale tunes into when he's feeling down; it feels warm and soft. If it had a smell it would carry the scent of blooming plants from thousands of years ago and of dust from bricks long gone.  
  
Aziraphale hasn't ever let himself sink into Crowley's love. It felt like a personal boundary that he shouldn't breach; it felt like something Heaven wouldn't ever allow. Demons, according to Up Top, weren't even capable of love. But after all they've been through over the past eleven years, he can't find a way to convince himself that he shouldn't have a look.  
  
Aziraphale slips into Crowley's love for the first time and stifles a gasp.  
  
Waves of adoration crash into him suddenly, stronger than he's ever felt. Love for London, love for the bookshop with all it's nooks and crannies. Love for warmth in a way that only someone scaled could ever fully express. Love for _Aziraphale._  
  
The angel sinks deeper into this feeling, chasing the threads linked to himself with a frantic fervor rendered completely unnecessary by the sheer amount of love sent his way. He sees whispers and flashes of a shared history through the rosy tint of Crowley's eyes. So much of it is familiar; the same swooping feeling is mirrored in Aziraphale's own chest every time he thinks of yellow eyes and fiery hair.  
  
As Aziraphale pulls back, he laughs wetly, using his freed hand to wipe tears from his eyes. Crowley stares up at him, confused and a little bit worried.  
  
"I'm afraid we've been rather stupid, my dear," Aziraphale's smile is watery. "I love you too."  
  
Crowley's mouth opens and closes several times before his face turns red. He buries himself in Aziraphale's chest, tightening the hug. "Took you long enough," comes the muffled response.  
  
Aziraphale brushes Crowley's hair away from his face, swallowing down a lump in his throat. "I've loved you since Eden, my dear. I just couldn't admit it to myself until much later. And I had my suspicions about you since the church in the 40s, but I was afraid to call Heaven's attention towards us... and I suppose I was a bit afraid in general."  
  
There was a small pause before Crowley replies. "I... since you gave away that stupid sword. I thought, what kind of angel just gives away their weapon? And the answer was, someone I'd like to talk to. And that was that."  
  
Aziraphale can't stop the foolishly large grin spreading across his face, and he's not sure he wants to; just holds his snake a little bit closer.  
  
There are plenty of other things they need to talk about, but for now, they're both content to stay swaddled in tartan blankets, warmed by each other's company.

  
_Yes I know that love is like ghosts_  
_Oh, and what ain't living can never really die_  
_You don't want me baby please don't lie_  
_Oh but if you're leaving, I gotta know why_  
_I said if you're leaving, I gotta know why_  
_Oh I sing all day and I love you through the night_  
_-Love Like Ghosts, Lord Huron_

**Author's Note:**

> title and song lyrics from Love Like Ghosts by Lord Huron  
it's already been done but I just love them so much, yknow? they need hugs  
not sure if i should tag this as asexual relationship but thats what they are to me? but that didn't really come up at all here? but my aziraphale and crowley are ace !  
i do good omens art too, see Lyghtbulb on instagram!


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